


Hands

by Eissa



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Art, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:15:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26267851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eissa/pseuds/Eissa
Summary: Sketch: https://i.imgur.com/pcGMVdW.png
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Male Surana
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12
Collections: Black Emporium 2020





	Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [endtable_fororphans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/endtable_fororphans/gifts).



It is their hands that speak the truest.

They talk in words too, of course, Zevran flirts, and deflects and tells stories that are a little more wistful than he intended. Alim is funny, in a bitter way and avoids telling any stories at all. He watches Zev's hands on his dagger hilts and thinks about what else the assassin could be gripping with such skill and tenderness. Zevran catches him staring and smirks. Alim looks away and the bitter streak grows. His hands, scarred from his own blade, lock around his staff, fist at his side, never allowed to reach for anything.

Zevran's hand performing a practiced dance of seduction: tempting and teasing but not insisting too fast. Alim's control slipping bit by bit as they no longer grip quite so hard, then start making abortive little attempts to reach for Zev. A bandage that doesn't need to be checked, but is. A friendly clasp on the shoulder that slides into a caress as it breaks. An offer to help shaving in exchange for brushing and braiding. 

And then hands hands hands ... _hands_... Stealthily pressed to sensitive spots through a robe or slipped under armor. Hands not at all stealthily when no one is looking at them. Zevran's hands skilled, sure, unsteady only when it's the proper time to be so. Alim's hands eager, but clearly in unexplored waters. They find their pace quickly though and then two sets of hands move in rhythm, anchoring each to the other through touch casual and intimate.

Then there an interruption when both sets of hands waver instead of reaching, hurt and uncertainty translating to half-finished gestures and slow, sad returns to their own sides. Their words deny the hurt, claim uncertainty, uncaring. Their hands drift, unmoored. 

And finally, the tentative hand, offering a simple earring that is so much more than the words say it is. And hands that don't quite shake slowly taking it, clasping it, understanding through the distracting words.

[](https://i.imgur.com/8ivx9zP.png)

**Author's Note:**

> Sketch: https://i.imgur.com/pcGMVdW.png


End file.
